


The Excalibur Club

by Kylie



Category: King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Stripper Arthur, Strippers & Strip Clubs, smut with sudden feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kylie/pseuds/Kylie
Summary: While on a business trip to Amsterdam Bill wonders into strip club "Excalibur", where he meets the hottest stripper ever - Arthur.The Stripper AU I couldn't get out of my head, complete with a crazy Camelot strip show and Arthur getting more than he bargained for.





	The Excalibur Club

**Author's Note:**

> This story was born when I saw a sign reading 'Excalibur' in big red letters in Amsterdam's Red Lights District. It turned out to be a Heavy Metal and Hardrock Cafe, but the idea of strip club 'Excalibur' was just too tempting...
> 
> I don't really have knowledge of strip clubs and shows, so this is all just fantasy and ridiculous fun.

As Bill entered the 'Excalibur' club all of his senses were instantly assaulted - a loud rhythmic beat, the smell of alcohol, the heat of bodies. He shook off the rain from his jacket and hair and elbowed his way straight to the bar. The chilly wet Amsterdam night outside should hardly have been a problem for someone used to chilly wet London nights, but Bill was glad to be away from the streets.

He climbed onto a tall bar stool with a glass of whisky in hand, which he downed immediately, enjoying the warmth spreading through his body. It had been a long day at work and he was determined to relax and enjoy himself. Bill waved his empty glass at the bartender to get another. That's when the noise around him changed in pitch and rose in volume. Podiums around the club were illuminated and well-built men in various states of undress appeared on top of them, gyrating to the beat of the music.

Bill admired them absently as he sipped his fresh whisky. And there was enough to admire. People around him cheered as more long legs, firm butts and ripped abs appeared on display. 

Abruptly the music stopped and the lights dimmed. A murmur of anticipation rippled through the audience. A moment later a single beam of light hit the central stage and everyone erupted in cheers. A blond man in some sort of stylised medieval garb stood under the floodlight, head bowed and legs apart. There was a sparkling crown on his head and he was leaning on a huge sword. Bill chuckled. Very subtle. 

A single fiddle note whined and the performer looked up, to the crowd's loud delight. He was obviously a favourite. Bill couldn't see his exact features from where he was sat at the bar, but his trimmed beard was as blond as his hair and the open lacing on his white shirt revealed a sculpted chest. He rolled his hips slowly, moving the sword diagonally away from his body. Bill leaned unconsciously forward, surprised to find he wanted to get a closer look at the blond man, who was now gripping the hilt of the sword with both hands and leisurely sinking to his knees. His hips, which were hugged lovingly by leather pants, worked and his hands stroked the handle of the sword in a very unambiguous manner. Someone beside Bill whistled, and the man on the stage ran a hand down from his neck to land between his legs with a very come-hither look in the general direction of the bar.

Suddenly the fiddle note spiked and he sprang to his feet, brandishing his sword. The whole stage flooded with lights, revealing ten men in similar period clothing positioned in a V-formation on either side of their 'king'. 

Right, Bill thought, the 'Excalibur' was taking its theme quite literally then. 

The fiddle had been joined by other instruments by now, the performers dancing to a sort of medieval remix with rock beats in it. Some shirts were dropped and belts loosened, revealing toned bodies and people around Bill whistled and cheered. Some of the moves on stage were quite acrobatic, others sensual and Bill found he didn't mind loosing his place at the bar to come a little closer.

The stripper-king of Camelot was gyrating beautifully around his sword, and having made his way to the stage, Bill now saw that he wasn't only well-built but quite handsome as well. Pale blue eyes landed momentarily on Bill, sending a sudden wave of heat right to his groin. Bill imagined he caught a wink, before the man's attention diverted to two of his knights apparently having a quarrel with each other. He strode over to interfere, but the two had already whipped out their swords and clashed. 

The crowd laughed and yelled to egg one or the other on, as they performed their sword dance. And then one of the fighters landed a precise hit, slashing the other's shirt open. The audience whooped in delight, and the two proceeded to rid each other of breeches and tunics until they were both left in nothing but very un-medieval thongs. They clinked their swords against each other a few more times, until one of them lost the grip on his weapon and it clattered to the floor. The winner then proceeded to spank the looser with the flat side of his own sword, to loud cheers from the club-goers. 

Another short dance routine later and the winner was brought before the king. There the generous king magnanimously offered the naked man the shirt off his own back, spreading his arms wide and letting him tug at the lacing until it was pulled free. The king's chest fully revealed was as delicious as the teasing sneak peek had promised. 

The knights also appeared in awe of all that exposed skin, as hands reached out, petted and stroked. Their leader writhed in their arms, crowned head thrown back onto someone's shoulder, as they debauched him. The music turned slower, sensual, fondling fingers moved deliberately, and Bill couldn’t help imagining how that chest would feel under his own hands. And then a large round table rose from beneath the stage to occupy the floor. The knights lifted the king up on top of it and with final caresses they retreated, as lights around the table dimmed and it alone remained illuminated. 

The crowd held their breath and Bill realised that he did too. The man was alluring and Bill wanted to see more of him, wanted more than just to see if he were honest with himself.

Slowly the man’s hips rose from the surface of the table, he ran his hands down his naked chest and then grabbed hold of something that appeared from the middle of the table. It continued rising, lifting him up onto his feet as he held on. A long metal pole. The audience keenly approved of this development and as the man hooked one leg around the pole, Bill felt an uncomfortable urge to adjust his trousers.

The stripper was agile and damn hot. And he worked the pole and the crowd like a pro. He rotated up and down the pole like he was glued to it, holding on with just an arm or a leg, at times upside down. Some of the more athletic moves were followed by teasing slides down, with the pole positioned beautifully between his butt cheeks. By the time he finally ripped his leather pants off the crowd was wild. He did a few more pirouettes, held onto the pole with both hands and flipped his body to the other side. In nothing but a thong and a crown he was obscenely gorgeous. The music died down to a faint trill and there was a murmur of anticipation. With the eyes of every person in the room on him, the man walked slowly to the edge of his round table, hips swaying and looked squarely at Bill. Mesmerised Bill stared back. The king reached up for the crown on his head and with a playful grin threw it directly into Bill’s hands. The light on the stage switched off.

Bill was left gripping the thorny metal circle, as the crowd erupted in cheers. Someone clapped him on the shoulder, probably telling him he was a lucky bastard, but since it was in Dutch he wasn’t sure. He looked up at the dim stage and found himself trying to peer through the shadows for the hunky figure, but the stage was now empty.

Background music switched on and soon everyone was back to their drinks and conversations.

Bill twirled the crown in his hands and chuckled. He was really too old to be getting worked up over a stripper, no matter how hot. He went back to the bar and ordered another whisky, wondering what to do with the crown. In the end he sat it on the bar and put his glass in the middle of the circle.

Sipping his drink Bill occupied himself with people watching until someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and saw a handsome blond guy sit down on the stool next to him. It took Bill several seconds to realise it was the stripper. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and looked like a normal if very attractive fellow and not the erotic vision from earlier. The man said something, breaking Bill's reverie. 

"Sorry, don't speak Dutch," Bill said. And the stripper smiled a wide genuine smile. 

"Oh you're English!" He said in what was clearly an east London accent, "Hi. I'm Arthur." 

Bill snorted. "Arthur? Yeah, I kinda figured that, your majesty."

"Cross my heart," the man apparently called Arthur rolled his eyes, "everyone thinks I'm taking the piss."

"Well..." Bill drawled, "it's a good name, it suits you, whether it's real or not. I'm Bill." 

He offered his hand and Arthur shook it, nice and firm. The contact seemed to last a little too long, but then Bill could read interest when he came eye to eye with it. 

He grinned. "Did you come back for this?" He pointed at the crown. 

"Not really, it's a gift, isn't it?"

"Thank you," Bill nodded. "I don't have anything equally splendid to give you in return, though. So how about I buy you a drink?"

Arthur licked his lips and Bill enjoyed the promise in the gesture. 

"Sure," Arthur waved at the bartender. 

"Been away from good old Britain for a while?" Bill asked when Arthur had been handed his beer. 

"Does it show?" Arthur took a swig of the Heineken. "Couple of years, enough to learn the language, get a job."

"You're very good at it," Bill found the compliment easy to pay, "your job."

"Thank you," Arthur smirked, "enjoyed the show?"

"It was quite ridiculous," Bill replied honestly, "and quite... engaging."

Arthur's smirk persisted. "What about the main attraction?"

"It certainly didn't disappoint," Bill said. "Fishing for compliments?"

"Don't need to," Arthur looked smug, "saw you watching me."

"Was just eyeing the crown," Bill teased.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, "Oh right… maybe I should take it back then?"

He reached out for the crown, but Bill's hand shot out almost without thinking and caught Arthur by the wrist. 

And Arthur dropped his eyes, just for a second, but that second was enough. 

Bill felt a thrill of anticipation run through him, this was going to be even more enjoyable than he'd thought. He let go and admonished, "No touching my crown. I think I might wear it to work tomorrow."

Arthur laughed and put his hands up in surrender, all relaxed confidence once again. "I'm sure the office will love it. You here on a business trip then?"

Bill nodded. "At least it's not all work and no play," he said, giving Arthur a long look and a suggestive half-smile, "or at least I hope so."

Arthur gestured expansively around the place, "Play is what we specialise in here."

All right then. Knowing his own tendency to drawl, Bill switched it on full force, "Are you done for the night?"

"My flat's on the other end of the city," Arthur looked at Bill, who finished his whisky in one swallow. 

"Then it’s lucky that my hotel's a ten-minute walk from here," Bill said. "Shall we?"

"By all means," Arthur said, pleased and then rolled his eyes at Bill picking the crown off the bar. "Doei," Arthur waved goodbye to the bartender and added something else Bill's phrase-book hadn't covered. The bartender flashed him the OK sign. 

By unspoken agreement they didn't touch each other on the way. The rain had thankfully stopped and the May night wasn't too cold. Arthur had thrown on a leather jacket over his t-shirt, which made him cut an even more roguishly handsome figure. He really was very attractive, and it made Bill momentarily self-conscious over his own graying temples, but he supposed it hadn't bothered Arthur, so it was no time to worry about it.

They passed by the prostitutes behind their glass doors, some posing and beckoning clients, others aloof and on their phones. There were quite a few people out - gawking at the ladies or just passing by, on their way from bar to bar. Couples, singles, groups of friends, locals and tourists. 

"So what is it you do?" Arthur asked suddenly. Bill glanced sideways at him, admiring the red lights playing on his face.

"Oh, nothing as exciting as you," he replied, "Just a pencil pusher, I'm afraid."

Arthur pursed his lips, "All right, keep your secrets. Just don't turn out to be a serial killer."

Bill laughed, "I promise I won't do anything to you you don't want."

"Mmm, I'm on board with that," Arthur winked, "so where are you taking me?"

"We're almost there," Bill assured him, taking his elbow and steering him into a left turn. It was lucky really that Bill had always had a good sense of direction, because all the tiny streets, canals and bridges in the area were a labyrinth. His hotel was just outside the Red Lights District and they really were almost there. 

"Nice," Arthur commented as they reached the five-star hotel Bill’s employer was splashing for.

They went up to the second floor and Bill opened the door. “Do you want a drink?”

“I want you,” Arthur informed him and slammed Bill into the door he’d just closed behind them. Arthur’s mouth covered his and the low-level arousal that had been simmering in Bill’s blood for the past hour spiked. He grabbed Arthur’s butt and drew him in, shocking an abrupt groan out of the man. Arthur rutted against Bill, tongue pushing into his mouth. But as much as Bill’s body was on board with more contact right now this instance, after all the promise in that striptease he wanted more than a quick fuck against the hotel door.

“Easy, tiger,” Bill pushed Arthur away slightly, just enough to free his mouth, “you’re gorgeous,” Bill nipped at his lower lip, “I want to see you properly.” He pushed on Arthur’s shoulders a little harder and received a wicked grin in return.

“That can be arranged,” Arthur shrugged out of his jacket and toed off his sneakers, all without stepping away from Bill.

“There,” Bill nodded to the wide neatly made bed. Arthur’s proximity made it hard to think, much less stop touching him long enough to move somewhere, but Bill was determined. “On your back,” he prompted, but the young man was apparently too stubborn. For his own good, Bill thought with a bit of anticipation.

“Look who’s getting bossy,” Arthur admonished and bit Bill’s ear. “How about something a little more fun than me just spread out on your expensive sheets?”

“You’re selling yourself short,” Bill chuckled, enjoying himself immensely.

“Believe me, I don’t,” Arthur tugged him away from the door and towards the bed, “Sit down.”

Bill dropped the crown that had been dangling off his wrist onto the bed covers and flopped down next to it, toeing off his shoes in the process. He raised his eyebrows at Arthur.

“There,” Arthur leered down at him, “that’s better.” He took a step closer, hips swaying deliciously. “You get the city’s best stripper into your bedroom and don’t request a lap dance? I’m offended.”

“Come here, best of the best,” Bill drawled and Arthur smirked, making a show of licking his lips, as he looked Bill slowly up and down. Bill’s cock twitched in his trousers. Arthur walked right up and placed both hands on Bill’s knees, spreading them. Swaying to the music only he could hear, he bent over Bill, body coming forward for just a second, as their lips almost met… and went up again, only to dive down once more, teasing Bill with another tantalising near-touch. Damn, he was good.

Bill fisted his hand in the bloody tease’s t-shirt and pulled him forward. With a devilish grin, he climbed onto Bill’s lap and gyrated. The contact sent a thrill of pleasure through Bill and fuck, he was taking this into his own hands.

Arthur gasped in surprise, as Bill just grabbed his arse and flipped them right over. Hovering over the momentarily dazed young man, he lowered his voice, “Shall we play a different game?”

Arthur pushed up instinctively, but Bill had been expecting that, bearing down on both his elbows at once, fingers digging into the soft flesh just at the edge of pain. “Now, my king,” Bill looked straight into those tense blue eyes, the sudden use of the title enough to give Arthur pause, “let _me_ take care of _you_.”

“I’m a big boy,” Arthur quipped, and pushed up sharply. Bill had seen that the guy was strong, all those tricks with the pole, he had to be, the muscles under Bill’s hands tensed, threatening to dislodge him. But Bill had a few tricks up his own sleeve, plus it wasn’t going to be a physical struggle anyway as far as he was concerned.

Suddenly Bill let up, and Arthur yelped, as pressure on his elbows was released and momentum made him almost overbalance. Bill smiled sweetly at the look of confusion on Arthur’s face and steadied them, Arthur sitting on the bed, Bill straddling his thighs.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want, remember?” Bill soothed and kissed Arthur, before he could reply, slowly exploring. No longer restrained, Arthur was relaxing into it by degrees, as Bill licked deeper into his mouth. As Arthur tried to quicken the pace, Bill carded his fingers through the blond strands, distracting him, dipping down to knead the back of Arthur’s neck. Arthur moaned as deft fingers dug in and Bill obliged, massaging the tense muscles. The kiss remained slow, focused, their bodies hot against each other, even through layers of clothes. Hmm, that needed to be remedied.   

Bill released Arthur’s lips and was treated to a beautiful moment of Arthur, his eyes closed, reaching after Bill’s mouth. God, he was handsome. Bill stilled him with two fingers on his lips and then pulled off his t-shirt, immediately descending to nip at the base of his neck, where it met the shoulder. He couldn’t help framing those lovely broad shoulders with his hands, caressing up and down Arthur’s biceps, all the while licking and sucking gently on the soft skin of his throat, his collarbone, the spot behind his ear. He batted Arthur’s hands away as he reached for the buttons of Bill’s shirt, pinching his nipple gently in chastisement, chuckling at Arthur pouting at him in response.

“Relax, beautiful,” Bill murmured, “you’ve already entertained me tonight at the club, it’s my turn.”

“What do you want?” Arthur asked, a frown forming between his eyebrows.

“To make you fell good,” Bill replied.

 “I mean just… This can’t be much fun for you…” Arthur trailed off awkwardly.

“On the contrary,” Bill brushed his thumb along Arthur’s full lower lip, which earned him a quick flick of Arthur’s tongue, “I’ll enjoy it very much,” he promised, bucking his hips to illustrate his point, “In fact,” Bill grinned and reached down behind him. Arthur rolled his eyes, as Bill produced the crown and placed it carefully atop his sandy head, “you’re entitled to it.”

With that Bill bore down, laying Arthur onto the pillows, running his hands along the toned arms, until his fingers closed on Arthur’s wrists. He claimed Arthur’s mouth in another deep kiss, and carefully lifted those arms up over the young man’s head. He tightened his grip and Arthur tested the hold, flexing his hands, but didn’t make any serious attempt at breaking free. Bill indulged in the exploration of his mouth for a few more minutes, before leaning away slightly, it was time to see if Arthur was ready. “Now,” Bill commanded, “take hold of the headboard and keep your hands there.”

"Bill?" Arthur was looking up at him, open and vulnerable. A surge of warmth rose up in Bill, too sudden, too deep to be directed at someone he'd only met a few hours ago. But all he did was repeat firmly: “now” and release Arthur’s wrists.

Arthur’s hands twitched in place and then blindly reached up to grab the bars of the headboard. Bill always predicted right.

“Good boy,” Bill sat up, admiring the stretch of muscles beneath him, as he slowly unbuttoned his own shirt. Arthur’s eyes followed him, but he kept himself in check. Bill shrugged out of the shirt and unbuckled his belt, sliding it out of the loops. Folding it in two, he ran the length of leather lightly over Arthur’s chest, deliberately brushing his nipples. “I don’t know if I want to spank you with it, or tie you up,” Bill mused out loud and Arthur sucked in a breath. It seemed like neither suggestion was particularly unwelcome to him, but Bill understood boundaries, “Maybe when we know each other a little better,” he said and replaced the leather with his lips.

Arthur pushed up eagerly, as Bill sucked on one sensitive nipple, but his moan of pleasure was too perfect, too evenly-pitched to be real. Bill released the peaked bud and caught Arthur’s chin.

“No, beautiful, I want you to close your eyes and just feel, forget about what you think I need to see or hear. Feel,” Bill concluded with a kiss and Arthur looked dismayed until his eyes fluttered obediently closed, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the headboard tighter.

Arthur was not going to be easy, but Bill enjoyed a challenge and he set to work happily.

With fingers and tongue Bill mapped the young man’s muscular chest and arms, delighting in every learned pleasure spot, in every subtle but genuine response. Arthur tensed when Bill kissed his stomach, so Bill focused on the vulnerable spot until Arthur relaxed into his touch. Bill let Arthur suck on his fingers for a bit, and it worked to distract him. He turned out to be ticklish on his right side beneath the ribs, and Bill exploited it gently. There, laughter was good. He intercepted Arthur’s hands on their way to stop his teasing, and guided them back up.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Arthur protested through some rather undignified giggles.

“Did I say anything about fair?” Bill raised his eyebrows, giving Arthur’s ribs one last tickle, before moving on to remove the rest of their clothes.

Bill found he felt greedy with all that skin on display and he didn’t feel like denying himself. No inch of Arthur’s gorgeous body remained untouched. Well, except for his cock. That touch had to be earned, as far as Bill was concerned. He had to remind Arthur to stay still a few more times, but the young man was letting go, minute by minute, his grip on the headboard no longer white-knuckled. Bill murmured how lovely Arthur was, how beautiful, but the first time Bill shocked out a real moan out of him, Arthur just seemed to melt into the sheets. It’s like something within him finally gave, the floodgates opening.

“There, yes, you’re doing so well,” Bill admired softly, genuinely. And Arthur’s whole being thrived at the praise. Time for the reward. For both of them at this point. Arthur’s moans were unrestrained, as Bill finally licked the head of his cock. Bill had to hold his hips down, but this time Arthur wasn’t fighting, didn’t even look like he was aware of moving. Bill licked and sucked eagerly, but goddamn it, he wanted more, wanted to be inside, fuck Arthur until he forgot his own name.

“Turn over,” he ordered, and Arthur whined as his cock slipped out of Bill’s mouth, “Over, onto your front,” Bill repeated, his voice harsh from want. Arthur whimpered, as his fingers, which had been gripping the bars for so long, released painfully. He tried to comply clumsily and Bill had to help flip him over. Face down in the pillows and writhing against the bed, Arthur was just too delicious to resist. Bill drank the sight in, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He was on a mission here, and he was going to see it through to the end, if it killed him. He squeezed the base of his own cock for a moment and took another deep breath. Right. God, the kid was hot. Bill bent down, just hovering for a minute, his breath hot on Arthur’s neck. Tiny shivers were wrecking Arthur’s body, but otherwise he kept still. That ridiculous crown was still somehow on his head, lopsided, squishing his hair, making blond strands stand at odd angles. Bill wished he could have got to him years ago, taught him to submit to pleasure.

Bill kissed the sensitive spot behind his ear and then licked a quick line up from between his shoulder blades to his neck. Arthur gasped, but Bill had already moved down. This time he started lower, his tongue flattened over Arthur’s spine. He moved slower too, and Arthur arched his back, his shuddered groan so low it was almost a sob. Bill moved lower still and licked back up, starting just above Arthur’s tailbone. He descended again, caressing Arthur’s hips, and thrust his tongue right between those firm round arse-cheeks. Arthur choked on his breath, but Bill didn’t let up, just hooked his hands under Arthur’s hips and pushed him up onto his knees for a better angle.

“Please,” Arthur moaned, haltingly, completely out of breath.

“Shh, you don’t get to decide anything here,” Bill soothed. He slapped one fine buttock and reached down for the lube and condoms in his suitcase, which he’d conveniently left beside the bed.

He prepared Arthur through a string of incoherent moans and cut-off pleas. Each one ploughing deeper into the remnants of Bill’s patience.

“Bill!” Arthur nearly cried, and that was the last straw. Bill’s fingers slipped out of him and Bill, wild-eyed and desperate, drew him harshly up by the throat. Arthur gasped as Bill squeezed sharply, breath hot against Arthur’s ear.

“Men who look up at you while you’re there, on stage, they all want to possess you, but they don’t know how.” He lined up, the tip of his cock pushing at Arthur’s entrance, “I do.” He drove in, in one long thrust and this time Arthur did yell.

Bill pressed in relentlessly, struggling to keep his pace slow, let Arthur adjust. But Arthur was meeting him soon, and Bill let him fall on all fours, fucking into him with no restraint. He just felt so good around Bill, hot and tight and too good. Really, neither of them were going to last long at this stage. Bill covered Arthur’s leaking cock with his fist and pumped in time with his thrusts. Bill’s other hand was gripping Arthur’s hip hard enough to bruise, but he couldn’t let go, needed to possess Arthur utterly, entirely, fuck! Arthur grunted and froze and then let out a loud hiccupping moan, as hot slickness shot all over Bill’s fingers. Bill drank in the sounds, the sight of the shuddering body beneath him, the hands fisted so tightly in the sheets… Bill’s own orgasm hit him like a freight train, so hard the pleasure was almost painful. He fell forward, pressing Arthur down, their bodies flush against each other, sticky, panting, perfect.

Suddenly Bill knew he wanted to see Arthur’s face, kiss him. Lightheaded he pulled out, stripping the condom and grabbed the soiled bedcovers, dragging them down to the foot of the bed. He flopped onto his back, gathering Arthur against his chest, flailing limbs and all. He brushed his lips against Arthur’s, but the man was so blissed out, he just plastered all over Bill’s side like a dead weight, wheezing breaths and the occasional twitch the only signs of his continued existence. Bill’s arms tightened around him and he had to consciously relax his hold.

He drifted on the endorphins for a while. He was brushing the edges of sleep, where he was meticulously tying Arthur to his stripper’s pole with a very long leather belt, when a groan somewhere against his neck pulled him all the way to consciousness.

“Hey,” Bill said.

“Nnngg,” Arthur replied eloquently.

Bill chuckled. “You with us?”

“Not sure,” Arthur mumbled and burrowed his nose under Bill’s chin. Bill petted his hair fondly. “What did you do to me?” Arthur asked into his neck.

“Made you feel good, I hope,” Bill aimed for casual. Arthur started to roll away, saying something, but yelped instead, jumping up a few inches. With a grimace, he pulled the crown from under his arse, rubbing the sore spot, where the thorns had dug in. Bill burst out laughing.

“Oh come on!” Arthur protested, “You brought it here.”

“Your crown – your fault,” Bill countered and Arthur swatted at him playfully.

They lay side by side for a few minutes in companionable silence, until Arthur pulled himself up on his elbow and frowned down at Bill in concentration. “How did you know?” He asked seriously.

Bill was silent for a minute. “You’re used to guys who see you up there and want the same thing, want you to perform for them,” he said eventually.

“That’s not how I usually think about it,” Arthur said.

“Sure,” Bill agreed, “but you were trying a little too hard, I thought you’d like being taken care of for a change.”

Arthur nodded, “I did,” he said slowly, “It was like I was… floating, everything just… Oh I don’t know,” Was he blushing? “It was really good.” He finished stiffly.

Bill pulled him in for a kiss, because not doing it at this point was just impossible.

“You were very sure about what I would like,” Arthur said eventually, when Bill ended the kiss.

“I saw the signs,” Bill said, absently raking his fingertips down Arthur’s bicep.

“And you’re not gonna tell me,” Arthur surmised with a little note of exasperation in his voice.

Bill smiled mischievously.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but then said carefully, "Maybe you'll tell me later. When we know each other a little better," he echoed Bill's earlier words.

Something fluttered in Bill’s chest. He really hadn’t started the evening with this in mind, but he found he was reluctant to let Arthur go. "If you want," he replied evenly, his tone betraying none of his eagerness.

But Arthur grinned openly, “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” And Bill felt a little giddy.

“Go get cleaned up,” Bill said, “and come back to bed. If you don’t have anywhere else to be tonight.”

“Hmm,” Arthur frowned theatrically, pretending to think about it, “I don’t think I do,” he declared. Bill gave him a push towards the bathroom and laughing Arthur hauled his shapely arse out of bed.

“How long are you even in Amsterdam?” Arthur asked.

“The whole week,” Bill replied, stretching, already imagining how much better this week was going to go than he’d anticipated.

“Good, I look forward to learning more about myself,” Arthur winked.

“Oh, I promise you, we’ll get to all those hidden desires,” Bill drawled, watching Arthur disappear in the bathroom.

Bill folded his hands under his head. Yes, it was definitely going to be a good week.

 


End file.
